


A Wonderful Business Agreement

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Gundam & Related Fandoms, Gundam 00
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Hate Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-03
Updated: 2009-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ribbons pays Ali for sex, but does that mean he has the upper hand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wonderful Business Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: <http://gundam00.livejournal.com/659684.html>

  
Ribbons watches him remove his clothes with a casual interest. Ali’s not that young anymore, but his body is still lean and muscular, and the strength in his limbs still ripples latently under the surface. From where he lies on the bed, Ribbons can’t make out too much detail, but he can tell that half of Ali’s body is riddled with a pattern of vicious scars, a memento from an encounter he had four years earlier. Ribbons smiles.  
  
The tattoo on Ali’s other shoulder spreads like a stain over his dark skin. Ribbons focuses his attention on the way the ink curls down a bicep as Ali walks closer.  
  
Ali stops at the foot of the bed and smiles obsequiously, just the way Ribbons likes him. “How can I be of assistance?” Ali asks.  
  
Ribbons lets his hand trail over his collarbone and slides his legs over the bedcovers, enjoying the feel of the silk sheets against his bare skin, but enjoying the feel of Ali’s eyes on his naked body even more.  
  
“You know what I’m paying you for today.” Ribbons says, watching Ali’s face for a reaction, eager for the slightest hint of greed, that filthy, human emotion; Ribbons has put down a lot of money for the pleasure of Ali’s company today, and he knows that Ali knows it. But Ribbons is disappointed, because Ali’s expression is perfectly schooled into a mask of eager subservience and nothing more.  
  
Ribbons sighs and sits up. He reaches a hand up to Ali’s cheek in the perfect imitation of a tender caress. Ribbons’ eyes are hard. “But you’ll have to shave first.”  
  
There’s only a slight pause between Ali’s smiles for the resentment to show through, but Ribbons notices it, nonetheless.  
  
“You want me to get rid of the beard?”  
  
Ribbons smile is beatific. “Yes.”  
  
Ribbons’ fingers slide down Ali’s neck to trace the path of a scar over Ali’s shoulder, “And if you do, I’ll let you fuck the other innovators too, as a reward.”  
  
Ali follows Ribbons’ fingers with his eyes. “All of them?”  
  
Ribbons’ lips curl in amusement; Ali might not show him greed, but lust is a fine consolation instead. “All of them.” Ribbons agrees.  
  
Ali’s face creases into a smile. He plucks Ribbons’ hand from his shoulder and kisses his fingers like a gentleman. “Your wish is my command.” Ali says, then stalks off into the en-suite bathroom.  
  
Ribbons lies back down on the bed as he hears the sound of an electric razor start up, and he luxuriates in the feel of the sheets some more. The silk is just cool enough to send a shiver running through Ribbons’ limbs whenever he moves, and he writhes a little, enjoying the simple pleasure. Some minutes later, and the sound of the razor is replaced by the noise of a basin being filled with water. Ribbons runs a hand over his own chin and down his own neck, completely smooth and unspoilt by such disgusting, human things as hair. The hand runs down his side and over his waist, trailing across pale, luminescent skin. Perfect, Ribbons thinks, as his fingers slide down between his legs and curl into the wetness accumulating there. He is perfection made flesh. His back arches. He is beautiful.  
  
The sound of a cough beside the bed makes Ribbons open his eyes. Ali is standing there, and he’s clean-shaven now. Ribbons smiles his approval and removes his hand from between his legs, wiping his fingers on his hip as he does so.  
  
“Kiss me.” Ribbons orders.  
  
The bed dips as Ali sits on the edge of it, and a shiver runs up Ribbons’ spine as Ali’s long fingers brush gently over Ribbons’ knee. Ali leans down to reach Ribbons’ lips, but Ribbons rises up to meet him halfway. He pushes Ali back until they’re both sitting, then pushes his tongue into Ali’s mouth. It can’t do to let Ali think that he’s in control of this situation for too long.  
  
Ali’s tongue is wicked though, and Ribbons feels himself shudder as Ali puts it to good work. Ribbons lets him, for a while, and by the time he pulls back, Ribbons can’t stop himself from panting.  
  
Ali nuzzles behind Ribbons’ ear, thick red hair brushing against Ribbons’ cheek. Ribbons sneers.  
  
“What do you want me to do?” Ali presses a kiss to Ribbons’ shoulder.  
  
Ribbons pushes Ali back by the chest so he can look him in the eye. He doesn’t bother to hide his sneer completely. “I’m sure you know what to do.” Ribbons says. “I don’t intend to instruct you every step of the way.”  
  
“Certainly.” Ali’s eyes crinkle into a smile. Ribbons smiles too, but underneath it, he’s busy waiting to see what Ali will do next.  
  
Ali moves backwards, then gently pushes Ribbons’ legs apart and sits between them. Then Ali leans forward and hunkers down, resting his arms either side of Ribbons waist. Slowly, he presses a wet kiss to Ribbons’ abdomen.  
  
A wide smile blossoms across Ribbons’ face as he watches. How very well trained. Subservience is a wonderful thing, and Ribbons is glad to see that Ali makes a glorious show of it. Ali’s lips travel downwards, licking a path over warm skin, but he stops before he gets to far, and ducks his head further to place a kiss to the inside of Ribbons’ thigh instead.  
  
One of Ribbons’ hands makes its way to Ali’s hair, and Ribbons strokes the red curls absently, waiting. Then Ali moves his head just that few inches forward, until his mouth is pressed between Ribbons’ legs, and Ribbons is forced to suck in a fitful breath through his teeth.  
  
Ali’s tongue really is wicked.  
  
Ribbons is content to lose himself in the feel of that tongue for a while. He arches his back and bucks his hips, and doesn’t care if Ali’s forced to hold him down with strong hands, because all Ribbons wants is more, warmth spreading through his limbs in every direction. He shakes as Ali’s tongue pushes its way inside, and his fingers clench in Ali’s hair.  
  
Ribbons loves to watch Ali like this. He can’t see Ali’s face, but he can see that the muscles in Ali’s back are taut. It must ache to stay in that position, Ribbons thinks, and a smile spreads across his face. From the way Ali kneels, it almost looks like he’s a religious man, facing Mecca and praying to Allah; physical comfort is no match against devotion. Ribbons throws his head back as his shoulders roll upwards. There is nothing that Ribbons likes more than devotion.  
  
It doesn’t take long before Ribbons’ toes start to curl. He’s going to come soon, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. Ali’s tongue doesn’t stop, and it’s so agile. Ribbons’ jaw clenches. This, Ribbons thinks, is a wonderful business agreement. And with the certainty of impending orgasm, Ribbons wonders if Ali knows how privileged he is to be here.  
  
When Ribbons comes, his whole body shudders, but Ali still doesn’t stop licking until Ribbons grabs him by the hair and lifts his head up forcefully. Ali grins, and his lips glisten in the light of the chandelier. So do his teeth.  
  
Ribbons pretends to ignore Ali for a few minutes, and busies himself with trying to get enough air back into his lungs. He doesn’t miss that fact that Ali is hard.  
  
“Are we done?” Ali asks, and out of the corner of an eye, Ribbons watches him sit up and roll his shoulders stiffly.  
  
Ribbons takes the time to lift his arms above his head and stretch luxuriously. He feels wonderfully calm and placid, but he’s also very aware of the way that Ali’s eyes follow the movement of his body like a hawk. Ribbons revels in the attention.  
  
“Not yet.” Ribbons says, and sits up to wrap his arms around Ali’s neck and drag him back down in an open-mouthed kiss.  
  
The taste of Ribbons is thick on Ali’s tongue. So very privileged, Ribbons thinks. He pulls away from the kiss and breathes hotly into Ali’s ear. “Fuck me.”  
  
Ali grins, ferally, and there’s that lust again. He looks down in between them and Ribbons can feel Ali positioning his cock at his entrance. Ribbons wonders if Ali’s going to look back up, if he’s going to ask for permission like the dutiful servant that he pretends to be, but instead Ali just thrusts his way inside, and Ribbons can’t help the gasp from escaping his lips at the feel of how thick it is. It’s good. It’s ever so good. Ribbons is more than pleased that he chose Ali for this task.  
  
Ali begins to move, and his body is much larger than Ribbons’, almost smothering Ribbons with its size. Ribbons wonders if Ali puts much store in the fact, if he is naïve enough to actually believe that physical size is an indicator of strength. Ribbons stifles a chuckle and runs a hand over Ali’s cheek. Ali’s face schools itself back into an expression of polite submission beneath the brush of fingertips, but Ribbons doesn’t miss the split-second beforehand, doesn’t miss the grin that was busy curling up into a snarl at the edges. The mask of obedience is slipping. Ribbons is elated.  
  
Ali thrusts deeper and Ribbons gasps. It’s not just Ali’s tongue that is wicked. His hips aren’t much better. Ribbons delights in the way that they roll and allows himself to sigh in pleasure. He’s missed this, this feeling of heat and hardness and human vice inside of him. And for a few minutes, Ribbons’ mind wanders without leave, so that it’s not Ali on top of him, but another man with red hair, and Ribbons is loved and worshipped and cherished because he is an angel.  
  
Ribbons is still an angel. Even all these years later. The men Ribbons uses have changed, but Ribbons hasn’t; he’s still as pure as the purpose he was created for. The angle of Ali’s thrusts changes slightly and it instigates the start of a slow swell of pressure through Ribbons’ body. Ribbons wraps his arms around Ali’s shoulders and holds on tightly, balls his fingers into fists and waits for Ali to finish what he’s started.  
  
Ali’s hair brushes in Ribbons’ face again, and Ali’s neck is warm and slick against Ribbons’ lips. From this distance the scent of Ali is almost overpowering, all musky and masculine and filthy and human. Ribbons bites down on Ali’s shoulder.  
  
But Ali doesn’t get angry, doesn’t grimace or snarl, and when Ribbons looks at him, he can see that Ali is grinning. It makes Ribbons’ stomach turn, that look of triumph, that vile, smug expression that suggests that Ali actually thinks he’s winning. It’s ridiculous, surely. Ali angles his hips again, and the heat that swells through Ribbons’ body, the pleasure and pressure and the building, building force of it makes Ribbons gasp and clutch desperately at Ali’s back, and, for a split second, Ribbons wonders if he really has bitten off more than he can chew.  
  
But it’s not over yet. Ribbons pants and his fingers claw at that tattoo. He has one more card yet to play, and Ribbons is determined to get the upper hand.  
  
The pleasure is still growing, curling almost unbearably through Ribbons’ abdomen, and he’s aware that his breathing’s growing fitful and ragged. But he manages to find the co-ordination to clench down on Ali inside him, and smile when Ali’s hips stutter shakily. Ribbons curls his arms around Ali’s neck, and uses them pull his lips to Ali’s ear.  
  
“What if I told you…” Ribbons has to pause to suck in a breath between almost every word, but he forces the sentence out through clenched teeth nonetheless, “that the man who gave you these scars…” Ribbons makes a low keening noise at the back of his throat, “What if I told you he was still _alive_?”  
  
And the shock that he sees in Ali’s eyes is better than anything Ribbons could have ever hoped for.  
  
Ali comes.  
  
Ribbons exults in the moment, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from laughing out loud. He pushes Ali away, trembling slightly as he feels Ali slip out, and takes a moment to breathe. Sweet victory. But Ribbons doesn’t wait for long. The absence of that building pleasure is almost painful, so Ribbons guides Ali’s hand between his legs and forces his fingers inside.  
  
“Your job is not finished yet.”  
  
Ali’s fingers are long and thick, and Ali curls them viciously, pressing down and rubbing so hard that warmth flares through Ribbons’ limbs and lights spark behind his eyes. But Ribbons doesn’t care. Because Ali’s grin has been replaced with a dangerous snarl, because the mask has been lost completely, and Ribbons knows that this is not a fight that Ali can win anymore.  
  
So Ribbons arches his back and writhes on the sheets and savours every second as he lets Ali’s fingers have their way with him. It doesn’t take long, the pressure building and building, before Ribbons shudders in orgasm and his whole body rolls with the force of it.  
  
Ribbons smiles. Smiles and smiles and smiles. Ali looks distracted, is already pulling his clothes back on, and that makes Ribbons smile even more. There’s no need to bother Ali with complicated details about twin brothers and borrowed codenames. That’s not important. What’s important is that Lyle Dylandy will be taken care of now, and Ali Al Saachez too, if Ribbons is lucky. Two birds with one stone.  
  
Time for one bird more.  
  
Ribbons stretches languorously on the sheets and yawns. He fixes his eyes on Ali and allows his lips to fall into their most angelic smile.  
  
“Why don’t we,” he says, “go and have a word with that young boy-soldier of yours?”


End file.
